


catalyst

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Fluff, Getting Together, Jealous Oikawa Tooru, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Oikawa Tooru, Protective Hinata Shouyou, Ridiculously fluffy, Romance, Shapeshifter, Sweet, a very short bit of fighting with supernatural creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: A strange cat with fluffy brown fur shows up at Kageyama’s house at the start of summer break.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 45
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

It’s been summer break for only a few days, and the vacation they had planned had unfortunately been pre-empted by an emergency series of work trips for Kageyama’s mother. She’ll be gone a week and then in and out the next few weeks after that.

Almost everyone else in the vicinity seems to be on vacation. At least half their block is empty, the houses completely shuttered. Hinata is away with his family.

Although he grumbled to his mother when she told him, Kageyama doesn’t actually mind that much. Last semester was grueling, from both an academic and a volleyball standpoint, and his mind and body are on the verge of collapse. It was also emotionally arduous, following his unpleasant breakup with Atsumu mid-year, after a long, turbulent year together. He’s only finally coming out of it, months later.

Kageyama could have tried to make last-minute plans with some of his university friends, but it hadn't seemed worth the effort. All in all, he’s grateful for the chance to rest. 

Luckily, his mom has left plenty of already prepared food, and for the first few days, Kageyama is practically a zombie. He spends the time sleeping, eating, and going for long, soothing runs. It’s probably good that Hinata is away, so that the runs don’t turn into marathon sprints. He can feel his mind and body slowly unwinding, muscles worn down from relentless practice beginning to knit back together. 

The cat appears on the third day. As Kageyama is swinging the gate open after his evening run, it meows piteously up at him. He jumps, not having noticed it was there.

It’s not too big a surprise, though. He doesn’t recognize this particular cat, but he assumes it lives in the blue house across the street, where an ever-growing family of cats – and people – live.

He glances at that house. The human family is away, judging by the absence of the usual clutter of bicycles, scooters, and helmets strewn about the yard. This cat must have escaped from its room and board location. It’s happened before, the cats sneaking out and making their way back home. In fact, on more than one occasion, Kageyama’s mother has taken care of an escapee until the family returns. She loves cats, although is too busy to adopt one herself.

The cat apparently had felt very strongly about where it was staying, because it looks as though it fought tooth and nail to escape. There are several patches of fur missing from its flanks, nicks dotting its legs, and a long, mean-looking gash along its back.

Kageyama frowns. The cat meows again. Kageyama, unlike his mother, wouldn’t necessarily consider himself a cat person, but there’s something about _this_ cat…

Then again, he’s on vacation. Or at least a staycation. He’s still recuperating himself, he’s not up for the task of taking care of another creature! This cat should be able to find someone else who can do a much better job than he can. He wishes his mom was back – she would do it in a heartbeat.

“Go away,” he says, making a shooing motion. His heart isn’t in it, though – does he truly want to abandon an injured creature? – and it’s a feeble handwave at best.

The cat stares at him, eyebrows arched, as if to say, _Really? You think a gesture like_ that _is enough to get rid of_ me _?_

Kageyama knows it’s not. He can already tell this is one stubborn cat. Likely nothing less than an all-out frenzy of arm-waving and yelling would get it to leave (and maybe that wouldn’t even be enough). He sighs. He doesn’t want a random cat in his peaceful, quiet house. But he can’t seem to muster the energy required to make it leave. Not to mention the fact that abandoning it outside in an injured state seems beyond cruel. And it’s too late in the evening to call an animal shelter.

He looks at it again, considering. It stares right back at him, dark eyes fringed with remarkably long lashes. There’s something about it’s expression, too – sly, like it knows more than he does, and also challenging ( _where has he seen that look before?_ ), all wrapped up in an overarching plea for help.

Knowing he’s making a mistake, Kageyama nevertheless unlocks the door and pushes in. It’s barely open a few inches before the cat streaks inside.

Kageyama does a quick internet search and decides that he’ll try to at least clean the nasty-looking cut on its back. He can always bring it to a shelter tomorrow.

First, he gives the cat a dish of water, and then opens one of the cans of cat food his mom has kept on hand ever since she first started temporarily adopting neighborhood cats.

The cat is obviously dead thirsty, and it eagerly laps up the water with its small, pink tongue. It settles down to the dish of food, however, in a manner that somehow manages to convey that it wouldn’t normally eat food from a _can_ , but it’s so hungry its standards have been shot to hell and it would eat practically _anything_ , even this slop.

It’s impossible that the cat can suggest all this merely from the set of its back and the tilt of its head, yet somehow it does. It’s pretty funny, actually. Kageyama grins, starting to feel less regret about taking a cat in – especially one with this much personality. 

After it polishes off the food, the cat sets about deftly licking its entire body.

When it’s done, Kageyama can see that it’s a fantastically gorgeous cat. Its fur is a rich brown color, shot through with golden highlights, and incredibly fluffy: when cleaned and dried, it puffs out to almost twice the cat’s actual body size.

For the next bit, Kageyama arms himself with his mother’s thick gardening gloves: he’s not risking a bite or scratch to his setter’s hands, not even for such an exquisite creature.

He then sets about washing the wound as carefully as he can. The cat, however, is surprisingly tolerant. It almost seems appreciative, as if it understands what he’s doing. In any case, it stands perfectly still as Kageyama washes and then dabs antibiotic cream along the cut. He’s relieved to see that, while long, the incision is quite shallow. The rest of his inspection does not reveal any other injuries, at least that his untrained eye can detect. 

The cat _is_ wearing a collar, though, and he picks it up eagerly, hoping it will have contact information for the family on it. But there are no attached tags, just the collar itself. It’s an interesting one, unlike any Kageyama has seen before. There is a complex pattern of intersecting diamonds on it, etched in such a way that the lines seem to glow faintly when they hit the light.

When he lifts the collar up, he sees that the skin underneath is rubbed raw.

“You don’t like this much, do you?” he murmurs. The cat ducks its head, as though nodding.

Kageyama shakes his own head. Why is he endowing this cat with human characteristics? Of course the cat wasn’t nodding its head in agreement. It didn’t understand what he was saying!

“I’ll take it off for tonight. But it goes back on tomorrow. You can’t be wandering around outside with no collar on.”

The cat nudges his hand with its nose, as if to say, “Yeah, whatever, get a move on.”

He has a little trouble unbuckling the fine collar, and has to take off the gloves. When he touches it with his bare hands, it prickles unpleasantly under his fingers. While he works, the cat is holding itself tensely – much more so than when he was cleaning its wound. He doesn’t know what to make of that, but he manages to get the collar open in the end. When it’s finally off, the cat lets out a long, surprisingly human-sounding sigh, and slumps against Kageyama’s crouched knees.

Finally, the task complete, Kageyama heats up some leftovers and eats a quick dinner. The cat jumps up onto the table – the table! – and won't get down despite Kagyama’s (again weak) attempts to shoo it off. What’s wrong with him, that he’s letting the cat do whatever it wants in his house?

The cat watches him eat in a wounded manner, as if its feelings have been hurt by the fact that Kageyama is eating delicious, human food, and all the cat got was that cold, canned garbage.

Kageyama laughs, wholly charmed, and holds out a choice bit of meat for the cat, who quickly grabs and eats it with sharp teeth.

Once they are done and he's tidied up, Kageyama collapses onto the couch, unexpectedly tired from all the activity. It’s past his bedtime, anyway. The cat, now clean, watered, and fed, apparently feels much the same way. It leaps onto him and curls into a ball, eyes tightly shut.

Kageyama looks down at the creature in his lap and feels something stir inside him. It’s obviously a tough cat, yet it’s also so elegantly… _pretty_ is the best word he can come up with, even though such a commonplace description doesn’t do the cat justice.

He lifts a hand, which looks large and coarse against the cat’s graceful frame, and smooths it down the cat’s back, careful to avoid the cut. He can feel each of the small, bony nobs of the cat’s spine. He scratches behind the cat’s ears, and is rewarded with a rumbling purr, so deep Kageyama can feel it rattle all the way up to his jaw. He smiles for what seems like the hundredth time that evening.

He doesn’t understand why he feels so content. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kageyama falls asleep on the couch. When he wakes up hours later, the cat is gone. He feels a bizarrely intense sense of loss but is too tired to try to pick it apart. He wonders dazedly if the whole thing even happened, or if the cat was instead part of some hallucinogenic zombie experience in his own head. He stumbles to bed.

When he wakes in the morning, he is so unutterably relieved to find the cat back, he doesn’t mind that its heavy weight is draped uncomfortably across his chest, or that its soft fur is tickling his chin.

As soon as he’s fully awake, Kageyama does another inspection, but the cut already looks better. He doesn’t think he has to take the cat to a vet or a shelter.

He does, however, go to the store to pick up some cat food, so he can at least give the cat a balanced diet. On a whim, he also buys a cat brush.

Brushing the cat is a revelation.

When he presses the bristles into the cat’s back, it gives a startled, pleased grunt and sinks helplessly into his lap. There is something unbelievably satisfying about brushing the boneless, yet still purring, heap of jelly.

His only mistake is to try to brush the cat’s tail. He does this exactly once. The moment the brush passes the cat’s rump and onto its tail, the cat shoots out a paw so quickly that all Kageyama sees is a brown blur. At the same time, he feels a sharp sting.

The distance is almost perfectly calculated, though, and only a single drop of blood wells up on his arm where the claw has barely punctured Kageyama’s skin. 

Kageyama breathes in sharply, not sure if this is a response to the pain or the realization that the cat could have easily ripped a chunk out of his arm.

This cat, for all its elegant mannerisms and fluffy fur, is most definitely dangerous. He should have understood that better from the condition it was in when it arrived. He wonders absently why the people in the blue house would keep a beast like this in a house full of children.

The cat is glaring at him, waiting for… what? An apology?

“I’m sorry,” he says, grinning, hands held up in surrender. “No tail. Got it.”

The cat relaxes and falls back down, indicating that Its Royal Highness will allow additional fur brushing.

This cat is something else!

“Just a moment,” he says, pushing it off so he can get up to wash the puncture. He’s not stupid enough to risk an infection.

The cat keeps to its own mysterious schedule, moving in and out of Kageyama’s house as though there are no walls. Kageyama eventually realizes that it’s using the slight opening in his bedroom window, leaping to and from the tree abutting the house.

It’s always there for dinner, though, and relaxing on the couch afterwards. It then departs at some point in the evening and returns in the middle of the night. He always wakes up very briefly when it slides into the bed, curling up into his side. It must move around during the night, because, come morning, it is inevitably lying heavily across his chest.

He wonders when its human family will return from vacation. On the one hand, he can’t help thinking that the cat should be back in its proper home. Yes, it looks good, it’s fur sleek and glossy, the bare patches already starting to grow back in, and the weal across its back closing over nicely. But it won’t touch the cat food he bought, and he’s not sure it’s getting all the nutrition it needs with the human diet he’s providing.

On the other hand, the thought of the cat leaving for good is an… unpleasant one. He’s gotten so used to its presence that it’s almost difficult to imagine a Time Before the Cat.

Somehow, he never ends up putting the collar back on. Initially, he doesn’t want to do so until the skin is healed over, and then he can’t bring himself to risk causing another sore. Plus, whenever he looks at the collar, with its strange, shifting diamond pattern, he feels uneasy for a reason he can’t explain. He ends up leaving it on the neighbor’s porch. They can deal with it. It’s not really his problem, is it?

“You got a cat, Kageyama-kun?” asks Hinata curiously. He’s back in town, and they’re having one of their usual Friday get-togethers: impromptu volleyball practice, a madcap, racing jog/run, dinner, and either volleyball videos or a movie – maybe both. Hinata will stay the night. 

“Nah,” Kageyama answers casually. “That’s the neighbor’s cat. They’re away.”

“Oh,” says Hinata. He’s not sure how he feels about the cat. It’s staring at him in an odd manner.

“It’s friendly,” Kageyama adds as he takes the leftovers out of the fridge.

“Is it?” asks Hinata in surprise. The cat doesn’t seem particularly friendly to him, with its eyes locked aggressively on his. 

At the table, Hinata looks on in astonishment as Kageyama hand feeds the cat all the best bits from his own meal.

Kagyama is so engrossed with the cat, he doesn’t even notice Hinata’s wide-eyed stare and dropped jaw.

“Wh-why is the cat eating your dinner?” Hinata finally splutters out.

“It doesn’t like cat food,” says Kageyama, as if that explains anything.

Hinata waits, but Kageyama doesn’t offer any additional information.

“So?”

“So, I don’t want it to starve.”

Hinata’s eyes narrow. Kageyama is practically making doe-eyes at the stupid cat! Like it’s his long-lost love.

That’s it! That’s what this sickening demonstration reminds Hinata of - when Kageyama first started dating Miya Atsumu! It was all “'Tsumu this,” and "'Ttsumu that.” Kageyama wouldn’t shut up about him. When they were together, Kageyama would grab Miya’s hand, would gently brushing Miya’s hair out of his eyes, would stare at Miya adoringly for long, disgusting minutes.

At the time, Hinata had thought that appalling display was as bad as Kageyama would ever get. But this – this is even worse!

“You’re in love with that cat, Kageyama-kun!” he practically yells.

“What?” says Kageyama. “Don’t be ridiculous!” But the fond smile he’s directing at the cat, who is delicately eating up all the goodies, doesn’t leave his face.

Hinata shovels his dinner in as quickly as he can despite feeling somewhat queasy from the revolting show going on right in front of him.

After dinner, they settle down on the couch in their usual spots, Kageyama at one end, Hinata at the other, their feet meeting in the middle. They’ve always had a physical relationship, born out of their symbiosis on the volleyball court. Kageyama is used to picking up one of Hinata’s feet and giving it a quick massage. Hinata is used to wiggling down until he is draped over Kageyama’s legs. The cat, however, quickly shoves itself between them, forcing Kagyama to bend his knees so that his feet are no longer touching Hinata’s. 

Kageyama, not taking his eyes off the screen, absently pulls his legs up, criss-crossing them, and settles the cat in his lap. 

Hinata’s eyes narrow. Just because Kageyama is oblivious doesn’t mean that Hinata doesn’t know what’s going on.

He spins around and deliberately leans into Kageyama, curling one arm under his leg. The cat stares murderously at him. Hinata, startled by the strength of it at such close range, instinctively draws back.

“Your cat hates me!” he cries out as he seeks refuge at the other end of the couch.

“What are you talking about?” Kageyama asks laughingly as he continues to pet the cat with long, smooth strokes.

The cat gives Hinata a smug look. Hinata would not have been surprised to see it stick its tongue out at him. 

Kageyama, however, merely smiles shamelessly down at the cat.

“That is the sappiest smile I’ve ever seen!” Hinata says accusingly.

Kageyama’s head shoots up. He glares at Hinata. “It is not!”

“It is too. You’re looking at that cat like it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread!”

“Come on. You have to admit it’s really pretty,” Kageyama says defensively in return.

“Ha!” says Hinata. “I rest my case.”

“You’re an imbecile!” protests Kageyama, cheeks pink and obviously flustered.

Hinata glances at the cat. It’s smirking – the cat is actually _smirking!_

“And now it’s smirking! It _likes_ that you’re in love with it!”

“Shut up, dumbass,” says Kageyama, throwing a well-aimed cushion at Hinata’s head.

Hinata grabs it and curls up on his side of the couch. He’s not pleased with this new development. Kageyama has always been such a moron when it comes to love. Even Hinata could have told him that the thing with Miya Atsumu would end badly. Wait – Hinata remembers. He did, in fact, tell Kageyama. Yes, and it turned out to be a truly bad idea, because Kageyama got seriously pissed and didn’t talk to him for weeks after that.

And now Kageyama is in love with a freaking cat????!! What a dork! Well, Hinata is not going to let a dumb pet take advantage of his best friend and leave Kageyama’s heart in tatters like Miya Atsumu did.

He sneakily waits until the cat’s eyes have been closed for a good chunk of time before he tries again.

“That cat isn’t good for you, Kageyama!” he whispers over the cat’s head. “It will break your heart!”

“What are you talking about? It’s just a cat!’

“Right,” Hinata agrees slowly, nodding. Maybe Kageyama isn’t as stupid as Hinata thinks he is? “It's just a cat.”

“Of course it is. The most gorgeous cat in the world, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Kageyama coos in the most nauseating way, waking the cat up on top of everything else.

Nope. Just as stupid after all.

Later on, things get worse.

Hinata is used to sleeping in Kageyama’s bed. They’ve spent so many nights together – at matches, at training camps, at each other’s houses – it’s easy and comfortable to fit in the same space. Kageyama will throw his legs over Hinata’s stomach, or Hinata will lean his head on Kageyama’s chest, and they will drift off into a comfortable sleep. 

Not tonight.

Tonight, the cat won’t let Hinata anywhere near Kageyama’s bed.

When Hinata finally muscles his way over and plunks down on the edge of the mattress, the cat stares at him menacingly, its tail lashing back and forth.

“This cat hates me, Kageyama-kun!” complains Hinta.

“Would you stop it already? It’s a very friendly cat!”

“It’s friendly to _you_ ,” grumbles Hinata. 

“What is up with you?” says Kageyama. “You’re being so weird tonight.”

“There’s something wrong with that cat! It’s not a normal cat.”

“I know it’s not a normal cat!” says Kageyama.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, look at it. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? This cat is special!”

_Shit._ Can Kageyama even hear what he's saying?

But Hinata has learned from past mistakes, and realizes that it's no use repeating Kageyama’s words back to him. He is obviously head over heels in love with the cat, and he’s also obviously blind, deaf and dumb to his own idiocy. Just like he was with Miya. Well, Hinata can only hope this ends better. Kageyama was such an angry wreck when they broke up, and he’s only recently gotten back to his normal level of grouchiness.

“I’ll get the guest futon out,” he says, with a sigh.

When Kageyama merely hums in agreement, Hinata knows the battle is over, and he’s lost. But then he remembers that the summer won’t last forever. And, once the summer’s over and Kageyama is safely back at school, the cat will be out of Kageyama’s life. Right?

He lays the futon down on the floor a good deal more perkily.

Kageyama, in turn, is thinking that Hinata can be such a blockhead! Of course Kageyama is not in love with a cat! It’s just that this cat is so intelligent, and funny, and ridiculous, and kickass, all wrapped up in such an incredibly gorgeous package. It’s hard to resist.


	3. Chapter 3

The summer is well underway, and Kageyama will be leaving relatively soon for training. He tries not to think too much about that. He’s usually excited for summer training. It’s volleyball, volleyball, volleyball all day, and now that his body is well rested, it should be the exhausting but fantastic experience it always is.

But, here’s the thing. At training camp, there will be no cat to eat delicious goodies off his plate. There will be no cat to rattle his bones as it purrs in his lap . And worst of all, there will be no limp cat sprawled out across his body every morning. 

Kageyama is also worried about the cat. Will it be okay with him gone? His mom will be back at some point, and he could ask her to take care of it. But what about the days she’s away?

And how will the cat know what’s going on? It’s not like he can explain everything. Even such a remarkable cat as this one couldn’t possibly understand the concepts of _away_ , and _volleyball training camp,_ and _I’ll be back in a few weeks_.

As the days tick by, Kageyama becomes increasingly anxious about the impending separation. The cat, also, seems to be uneasy. It no longer sits overlong in his lap on the couch in the evenings, instead getting up to wander stiffly around the room. It also casts strange looks in Kageyama’s direction, almost as though it wants something from him. He doesn’t know what, though.

It’s really too bad they don’t speak the same language.

The anxiety comes to a head when Kageyama wakes up at 4 a.m. one morning, startled by the absence of a furry lump snuggling up next to him in bed. The cat is always, always, always here by this time. Not tonight, though. Tonight, his fingers curl around empty sheets.

Once he’s fully awake and gotten his bearings, he forces himself to calm down. There’s no reason to be concerned! That cat can take care of itself! He’s felt its claws. He knows how smart it is.

Nonetheless, he can’t shake the uneasiness. Nor can he fall back asleep. Then he remembers the collar. He never put it back on! What if the cat is stuck somewhere, and then gets picked up by animal control in the morning? What if they think it’s a stray? Would they – could they – put it _down_? Is that how things work in this day and age? Kageyama doesn’t know, but by now he’s thought himself into a full-fledged panic.

He leaps out of the bed, dresses quickly, and tries to calm himself down enough to figure out what to do next. He decides that he'll search the surrounding streets in a one-mile radius. If he can’t find anything, he’ll wait until morning and call to report the cat missing. Or go search some more. He’s not sure about that part, but he can cross that bridge when he comes to it. If he comes to it. 

Once he’s set on a course, his breathing slows. He’s a setter. He knows how to keep calm under pressure. All he has to do is follow the plan.

He sets out at a brisk pace, shivering in the cool night air. He walks methodically up the first street and down the next, searching them one by one. He can’t help simultaneously cursing himself for a fool. What is he doing? This is a street-savvy cat. It probably can handle itself a lot better than Kageyama can out here in the middle of the night. Nonetheless, he can’t shake a growing fear that something isn’t quite right. The memory of the cat’s wounds when it first arrived are looming large in his mind.

He almost trips over a stick which is lying lengthwise across the sidewalk and nearly invisible in the dim moonlight. He picks it up, relieved to have something in his hands. It’s not really very big, nor particularly strong-looking. But better than nothing.

He’s been walking for what feels like an eternity, but which is probably only a little over an hour, when he hears it. A cry, almost like a baby’s wail, followed by a rough hissing.

There’s something familiar about the pitch of that cry, and Kageyama stops immediately.

He does his best to pinpoint the direction it came from.

No more cries, but he does hear more hissing, as well as growling, deep and guttural.

It gives him the shivers, and, more importantly, is most definitely coming from his left.

At first, he doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Hunched shapes, backs to him, forming a ring. What are they? They most definitely have tails. They look like – raccoons, maybe? But Kageyama doesn’t have time to dwell on the mystery. At the center of the ring, up on a flimsy-looking fence, is a familiar-looking cat in a very unfamiliar position: its body rigid, its ears pinned back against its head, and its fur fluffed wildly out.

At the sight, Kageyama sees red. How dare these – these raccoons threaten _his_ cat? And why the hell is the idiotic cat trying to take on a swarm of raccoons? On its own? He thought the cat was smarter than that!

Grateful for the stick, he swings it in a wide arc. He manages to get a solid whack in at least three of them before they jump back and around, hissing at him.

They don’t run away, though. And he’s not sure they are raccoons after all. He can’t get a good look at them. They remain shadowy figures, shifting in the light, difficult to pin down. All he can see are their bared teeth, their wicked-looking claws, and the eyes – are they _red?_ Kageyama tightens his grip on the stick. He lunges, managing to stab one of them in the chest. It doesn't back down, instead snarling at him in a thoroughly bone-chilling manner.

The cat doesn’t waste any time. It leaps a fantastic, high leap, up over the things’ heads, landing on Kageyama’s shoulder. He winces as its claws dig in. At the same time, he is already turning and running as fast as he’s ever run, away from those strange, red-eyed creatures.,

He thinks he hears the sound of feet pattering close by, he thinks he feels hot breath on the back of his neck. However, when he finally dares a glance over his shoulder, he and the cat are alone on the empty streets. 

He doesn’t slow down, though, and he doesn’t stop. Not until they’re safely home, the door locked and bolted behind them.

The cat jumps down, landing lightly on the floor, as Kageyama bends over, gasping for air.

When he can finally speak, it is to cry out, “What the hell were _those?”_

There’s no answer, of course.

“And why were you fighting them on your own?” Kageyama is really angry, and he’s yelling at the cat like it can understand him.

It looks, in fact, like it does understand him: gazing sheepishly at the floor in acknowledgement of its own stupidity. Again, he has the oddest feeling he’s seen that look before. Something – _someone_ – embarrassed, right after getting hit on the back of the head for acting like a complete fool. Kageyama brushes that irrelevant thought aside. There is more scolding to be done.

“You could have been seriously injured, or even _killed!”_

Saying the words out loud brings home the reality of what that would have felt like, to have the cat disappear forever. It’s a horrible, empty, sad feeling, like his guts have been torn out of him. He doesn’t think he could have born it, if the cat had been killed.

He shudders and closes his eyes, sagging against the counter.

He is distracted from these thoughts by the feel of something rubbing sinuously against his legs.

He reaches down, saying, “I’m still angry at you,” in a rough voice, even as he scratches gently behind its ears.

To help calm himself, he warms up a glass of milk. He also cuts up some leftover fish for the cat. By the time they are both done with the snack, the adrenaline from earlier has evaporated, and he is exhausted.

They stumble into bed, and he hugs the cat tightly to his chest. The cat even tolerates Kageyama burying his face in the thick fur.

. Almost absently, his lips brush against the warm body in a light kiss. As he does so, he thinks drowsily to himself that he’s never kissed the cat before. It’s a weird thing to do. Will the cat hate it? The way it hated having its tail touched? Will it scratch him? In the face? He hopes not – he imagines that would hurt like crazy. But he’s too tired to do more than lean back into his pillow, his eyes closed.

There is no scratching. Instead, there is a deep, rumbling purr in response, deeper, somehow, than he’s ever heard before. And then the cat settles heavily on him. More heavily than usual. It also seems to have grown, so that now it’s covering his whole chest, and maybe part of his lower body too. The mass and weight are pulling Kageyama down, down, down.

He sinks gratefully into the oblivion of sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Kageyama wakes up slowly. He’s wonderfully comfortable. There’s a toasty body across his belly and stretched along his side – the cat. He smiles to himself, happy and relieved that it’s back where it belongs, safe and sound.

Eyes still closed, he lifts a hand to pet it.

Instead of hitting warm, silky fur, however, his fingers close over smooth, silky… skin?

He freezes.

There is a very uncatlike chuckle.

“Good morning, Tobio-chan!”

Kageyama would recognize that voice anywhere.

His eyes fly open and his head snaps up.

Instead of the brown cat, he sees… Oikawa Tooru??!

Oikawa Tooru is lying in Kageyama’s _bed_! He is, in fact, lying with one arm around Kageyama’s _waist_! He is staring right at Kageyama, his chin propped up on the other hand.

“Oi-oikawa-san?”

Oikawa smirks at him.

Kageyama’s eyes goggle.

“What the hell?” he cries out.

Oikawa winces. “Volume, Tobio-chan! It’s only,” his eyes glance to the clock on the wall ,“Eight o’clock, and we had a very long night.”

Kageyama scrambles back until he hits the wall. He jerks his legs up so no part of him is touching Oikawa. Oikawa frowns as he is jostled in the process.

“What the hell?” Kagyama repeats.

He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Why is Oikawa Tooru in his bed? Where is the cat?

Then he realizes that there are more pressing matters at hand.

Oikawa is not wearing any clothes! His very bare chest and lower back disappear under the sheet, which follows the subsequent contours of his body in a smooth line. Kageyama swallows thickly, unnerved by the proximity to the swaths of golden skin stretched out in front of him.

Oikawa, his hair a mad, brown halo with two noticeably shorter patches, smiles fondly. “You’re so cute when you first wake up,” he says.

Kageyama can feel the heat rise in his face.

“I’ll get you s-s-some c-c-clothes,” he stutters.

“That would be nice,” purrs Oikawa. He moves as though to rise. Galvanized into action – no way is he going to sit idly by while a naked Oikawa stands up right in front of him! – Kageyama leaps out of bed, careful to keep his back to Oikawa.

He rummages around and pulls out a shirt, boxers, and sweats, hoping they’ll fit. The very revealing look he just had has confirmed that Oikawa remains broader across the shoulders than he is. Kageyama finds an oversized hoodie, too. He throws them behind without looking, hoping they’ll land near Oikawa.

Oikawa laughs. “So shy, Tobio-chan. After we spent the night together? And not for the first time, either!”

Kageyama ignores this and dresses himself in record time. When he’s done, he risks a quick glance.

Unfortunately, the entire exchange was not a figment of his imagination. Oikawa is most definitely in Kageyama’s room, thankfully now wearing pants, and about to pull the shirt on. He’s turned away from Kageyama, and before the shirt slides down, Kageyama catches a glimpse of a long, shiny pink scar coursing down Oikawa’s back.

The cogs in Kageyama’s brain finally start to move.

Oikawa was in Kageyama’s bed, in the cat’s spot.

Oikawa’s hair almost perfectly matches the fur of the cat.

Oikawa has a long scar down his back, in the same place the cat did.

What??!!

Is Oikawa a _cat_???

“I can feel you thinking, Tobio-chan. Allow me to remind you that it’s too early in the morning for deep thoughts, especially after the busy night we both had.”

Kageyama can’t answer. His mind is now caught up in other things. As in, the memory of all the times he hand-fed Oikawa – _Oikawa!_ – food from his own plate. And all the times Oikawa – _Oikawa!_ – sat in his lap – being petted. And all the times he woke up with Oikawa – _Oikawa!_ – sprawled across his chest.

Because, incredible as it is, and for reasons he cannot comprehend, there is nonetheless no doubt that Oikawa and the cat are one and the same creature.

Kageyama hangs his head in his hands and groans, wishing he could erase all the humiliating memories.

“I understand, Tobio-chan,” says Oikawa kindly. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Kageyama looks up again. Oikawa is in the process of lifting the edge of the hoodie to his nose and giving it a good sniff. “It smells like you,” he says.

It is a surprisingly intimate statement. Kageyama can feel himself blushing again.

“Are you hungry?” he asks loudly in an attempt to stave off the appalling thoughts that are crowding in and threatening to overwhelm him.

“Ravenous,” says Oikawa.

Over breakfast, Kageyama's eyes keep returning to Oikawa: to his quick, precise bites; to the pink tongue delicately licking a stray bit of rice off a chopstick. Has Oikawa always eaten like this? Or is he still so close to his cat form that he is temporarily retaining the mannerisms?

He wonders idly if Oikawa will lick his body clean once he's done eating. He shakes the ridiculous thought out of his head. Of course he wouldn’t. Then again, _would_ he?

A more reasonable question pops into his head, and he blurts it out. 

“What happened to you? That night? When you first came here? Was it those – those same _things_ from last night?”

“No.” Oikawa airily waves a hand in the air as though they were nothing, those fanged, clawed, red-eyed nightmares. “Those were minions.”

_Only minions_! thinks Kageyama, shuddering. 

“That first night, I had a run-in with some eagles. They caught me alone and got that collar on me. I was lucky to escape from them at all.”

He is silent for a moment, then adds, “It was a big deal that you got the collar off. I was in real trouble with it on. if you hadn’t removed it right away, they would have easily pulled me back in.

There is another silence, longer this time.

“You’ve done quite a lot for me these past few weeks, Tobio-chan.” For once, Oikawa is dead serious, and he meets Kageyama’s eyes with a level gaze. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” mutters Kageyama, dropping his own eyes. Not only is it bizarre to have Oikawa express genuine gratitude to him, he is struggling with the idea that the collar is _magic_. It’s the first time he’s said that word, even in his mind, and it makes the situation ten times more real. This immediately begs the question as to whether he actually believes in magic, or if instead he’s actually losing his mind. 

Neither option is particularly palatable.

Oikawa seems to understand at least a little of what’s going on.

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, in a low voice. “But it’s all true, and it all really happened.”

Kagyama doesn’t look up, and Oikawa leaves it at that.

They finish breakfast in silence.

Oikawa leaves as soon as they’re done. “I have to get back home, sort things out. I’ll bring your clothes by later. Okay?”

Kagyama can only nod dazedly.

“Bye, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa waves cheerily as he walks away, as though it’s a perfectly ordinary day. 

It’s only after he’s long gone that Kageyama wonders if Oikawa meant later _today_? Or later _next week_? Or perhaps later next _year_? Or even later in another _lifetime_?

Luckily, Kageyama has plans with Hinata to play that day, and the next, and the one after that. He practices relentlessly, trying to sweat out every last memory of this strange few weeks.

“How’s the cat?” Hinata asks at one point.

“What?” says Kageyama, whirling around. “What do you mean, how’s the cat?” Does Hinata _know_?

Hinata frowns at him. “I mean what I said. How’s the cat? Is it still eating your food and sleeping in your bed?”

“No,” Kageyama says shortly. “It left. You were right. It was a strange cat.”

“Oh,” says Hinata, his face relaxing. Maybe Kageyama wasn’t in love after all. Maybe it’s even safe to come over again!

“Are you free on Friday? We can watch the Waseda match.”

“Yeah,” says Kageyama. “Sure.”

Hinata is so pleased with this he doesn’t notice Kageyama’s frown. If he had, he would have realized that it was a frown, not of concentration, or of victory, but, rather, of confusion, and maybe even of sadness.

Oikawa does not return. As the days pass, Kageyama eventually admits to himself that he really misses the cat. Because, no matter how much he berates himself for his foolishness, he can’t help feeling like there is an unexpectedly large hole in his life where it – _he_ , rather – used to be.

Yes, it curdles his stomach to think that it was Oikawa all along, but there is a physical sense of loss every time he wakes up from sleep and there is no soft, furry body on top of his. 

Particularly when he knows that Oikawa, contrary to his words, is never coming back. Why would he?

Kageyama is truly shocked when, a week later, he opens the door to find Oikawa standing on the doorstep. 

“Sorry for the delay,” Oikawa says chirpily. “It took much longer than I thought it would to clean up that mess.”

Kageyama can only stare. Oikawa is looking exactly like his old self, including his hair, as artfully tousled as ever. If Kageyama hadn’t known where to look, he would not have noticed the two well-camouflaged patches of shorter strands.

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside, Tobio-chan?” Oikawa asks archly.

Kageyama wordlessly stands aside, and Oikawa strides confidently in, like he is coming home.

“I brought your clothes,” he holds up the obviously washed and carefully folded clothes, “and dinner,” he says, lifting a bag. “Since you played host so many nights.”

That’s how they end up back at the table, eating, while Oikawa chatters away about meaningless, inconsequential things, like the weather, and the performance of various hair care products on unevenly shorn hair (!). It’s only when he starts to discuss the fall lineup that Kageyama pays even the slightest bit of attention. But the one topic Kageyama is waiting with bated breath to hear about does not arise. And Kageyama is still too weirded out to put his own questions about _magic_ and _shapeshifting_ into words. 

As soon as they’re done, Oikawa asks, “How about a video, Tobio-chan?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Kageyama replies eloquently. He's not sure why Oikawa is prolonging this uncomfortable visit.

“So reticent, Tobio-chan! You’re much more interesting when I’m a cat.”

Kageyama blushes and fails to stammer out even a wisp of an answer.

There is a moment of true awkwardness once the video is in and starting to play. Where will they sit?

Kageyama does his best to solve the problem by situating himself primly upright at his end of the couch.

Oikawa is eyeing him like he wants nothing more than to leap into Kageyama’s lap. But surely even _he_ wouldn’t dare?

Oikawa wouldn’t. Instead, he says, “May I?”

Not waiting for an answer, he grabs Kageyama’s legs and manhandles them until Kageyama is lying down against the back of the couch.

Oikawa then plunks himself lengthwise in front of him, such that the back of his head is resting against Kageyama’s chest.

Kageyama lies there rigidly until Oikawa says, “Relax, Tobio-chan. I’m not going to bite.”

His voice from this position reverberates slightly from his back into Kageyama’s stomach and, at the sensation, Kageyama slowly relaxes.

“That’s better,” says Oikawa approvingly.

A short while later, Kageyama, caught up in what’s on the screen, absently drops a hand into the fluffy hair.

Oikawa lets out a small noise. Kageyama, instantly recalling himself, whips the hand away.

“You numbskull! Leave it!” Apparently not trusting Kageyama to do so on his own, Oikawa grabs the limp hand and jams it back against his scalp. “I _like_ it.”

It’s different than petting the cat. At the same time, there’s a comforting familiarity about it, too. Oikawa’s hair has the same silky softness, and it rebounds back to full fluffiness in the same satisfying way after it’s been petted.

Kageyama finds himself smiling at the feel of it.

_Could he even…?_ He thinks he could. Feeling wonderfully daring, he slides his hand around and scratches behind one of Oikawa’s ears. 

Oiakwa lets out a sound that can only be described as a purr.

Kageyama bends his neck to look down. Oikawa’s eyes, fringed with those impossibly thick lashes, are closed. He has a small, satisfied smile on his face. This close, he is enchanting. Kageyama’s heart squeezes at the sight.

_Why did he come to_ me _when he was in trouble?_ Kageyama wonders to himself. Anyone would have helped him, and would probably have done a better job of it than Kageyama did, too.

He must have said it out loud, though, because Oikawa’s eyes fly abruptly open. He wiggles around until they are facing one another.

“Do you really not know?” Oikawa asks in disbelief. The look on his face is one that Kageyama has seen there many times before, the one that says Oikawa can hardly believe that Kageyama is truly that stupid. 

Kageyama flushes but shakes his head. 

“Even with the collar off, there was only one way to regain my human form after being hit with that kind of spell,” Oikawa says slowly, with the air of someone who expects their words to produce enlightenment.

When Kageyama continues to look at him blankly, he adds scornfully, “Haven’t you ever read any fairy tales?”

Kageyama frowns.

“Fables?”

Oikawa eyes are locked on Kageyama’s.

“Myths?”

He starts slowly inching his way up Kageyama’s body. 

“Legends?”

Kageyama is mesmerized by the looming face and the low, hypnotic voice.

“Don’t you know anything?” Oikawa asks tenderly, his eyes now so close that Kageyama can see tiny flecks of gold in them.

Kageyama shakes his head again. _No_ , he really doesn’t know anything. Not where Oikawa is concerned.

“True love’s kiss, you idiot!” Oikawa breathes.

He hesitates a moment, then leans in the last few inches to brush his lips against Kageyama’s.

Oh.

_Oh_.

“But I – I wasn’t, I’m not – “

Oikawa cuts him off.

“Tobio. You’ve been in love with me for years. You just hadn’t realized it yet.”

He leans in to kiss Kageyama again, but this time Kageyama holds him back.

“And you?” asks Kageyama, his voice hoarse. “You…. with me?”

Oikawa stares at him for an endless, heart-stopping moment, before saying, “I’ve always known.” He then sneakily and mercilessly takes advantage of the now-stunned Kageyama to press his lips, oh-so-gently, against Kageyama’s once more. 

As he does so, Kageyama’s hands automatically wind around Oikawa’s back, pulling the heavy, sinuous body in more tightly against his own.

And then they are kissing, long, sweet, lover’s kisses, wrapped around each other on the couch.


End file.
